


Mask of a Memory

by JustJasper



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Halloween, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-10 06:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJasper/pseuds/JustJasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Halloween, and a prank goes horribly wrong for Reid and Morgan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mask of a Memory

_“I can’t find why I should disguise on Halloween. I already got a mask to get rid of.” - Thanos Grigoriou_

  
  
Reid was determined to make the first Halloween he spent living with Morgan one to remember. He knew the man wasn’t fond of the holiday, but he’d been good about Reid’s plans to decorate four days before the actual day. He’d even carved a pumpkin, though Reid was a little disappointed by the generic scary face he cut into it. He’d only specified his apathy towards the holiday once, when Clooney had knocked a glass off the coffee table while throwing around a rubber spider that had come loose from the ‘nest’ of them in the hallway.  
  
He’d thought to do it as soon as Morgan had left the house for Clooney’s afternoon walk; Morgan didn’t like being caught off guard, so a sudden scare was always a good way for Reid to get one over on him. He went to his box of Halloween masks, of which he had quite a choice; he’d used a Frankenstein monster one years previously to scare him at the office, so that wouldn’t do. A hockey mask was too generic, and the werewolf mask was already in use as a prop in the front yard set up for trick-or-treaters. Then he came across one that might do the trick; it was a ghoul, a grotesque latex mask with a fanged mouth and a hook nose.  
  
He waited until the he heard the front door open and Clooney’s paws on the wood before he moved, making sure Morgan didn’t see him while he went to the kitchen and took the dog off the leash. The canine was excitable at the best of times, Reid wanted to avoid him in the prank if he could, lest he get pounced. There was only one person he wanted to pounce him, and if things went according to plan after the scare that would be exactly what Morgan did.  
  
Reid pulled the mask down over his head and snuck into position, lurking in the living room and waiting for Morgan to come in from the kitchen.  
  
It happened very fast; Reid jumped into Morgan’s path, screeching behind the mask and making claw shapes with his fingers, and instead of jumping back and yelling, Morgan’s eyes went wide and he punched Reid square in the face.  
  
“Arrgh!” Reid sounded as he staggered backwards, hands flying to his face as he bumped the back of the couch and lost his footing, topping over the furniture and landing in a heap between the sofa and the coffee table.  
  
“Spencer!” Morgan yelled, recoiling at the sight of blood when the man pushed the mask away. He groaned and sat up, slightly dazed as Morgan helped him to sit. “Shit, baby, I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Ehhgh,” he sounded, pinching above his nostrils and stretching his facial muscles experimentally. “Not broken. I need a cloth, a damp cloth.”  
  
Morgan looked horrified for a moment, and then hurried away and back, damp cloth between his fingers. Reid pushed himself up onto the sofa and rested his head back slightly, closing his eyes against the residual pain.  
  
“That didn’t go as I’d imagined,” Reid said.  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Ow, fuck,” he muttered.   
  
Morgan withdrew the hand that had been hesitating towards his face. Reid released his nose and sniffed experimentally. The bleeding had stopped relatively quickly, but with drying red streaks below his nostrils he gazed at Morgan, brow furrowing.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“I don’t know, Spencer, I’m sorry-”  
  
“You’ve never lashed out when I’ve scared you before. You reacted as though you felt threatened.”  
  
“That’s no excuse,” Morgan murmured as he wrung his hands nervously, “I’m sorry I hurt you.”  
  
“I’m not making an excuse for you,” he said evenly as he took the cloth from the man and wiped around his mouth and nose. “You punched me, it wasn’t fun. But I want to know why you reacted that way. And I think you know, because you haven’t said ‘I don’t know what came over me’ or similar sentiment yet.”  
  
“Spence-”  
  
“Was it the mask, Derek?” he glanced over at it discarded on the floor, his brain working to solve the puzzle. “Did I... was it The Reaper? Was that what you were reminded of?”  
  
“What?” Derek shook his head, knowing he hadn’t even thought of George Foyet. “No. I just-”   
  
He shrugged, but Reid pulled his legs up under himself on the sofa and kept watching him, waiting for him to talk. Morgan considered the other man for several long minutes, lips pressed together thoughtfully.  
  
“The men who robbed the convenience store,” he started slowly, “where I watched my father get murdered, wore masks. A lot like that one. And I guess when you surprised me I was ten years old again, watching my dad bleed to death and listening to them shout at each other about whether they should kill me or not because I’d seen them. Except I’m not ten years old, I’m a grown ass man and I my reaction to feeling threatened isn’t to cry and hold my father’s hand anymore.”  
  
He tried to smile at Reid, but it didn’t translate properly, ending up in a lopsided expression that didn’t mask the pain of recalling the memory.   
  
“It didn’t happen at Halloween,” Reid said, because he knew the date of Morgan’s father’s death, even if he hadn’t known the intimate details. He hadn’t pushed, he knew they had a lifetime to share their histories.  
  
“It was a few weeks before.” Morgan shrugged. Reid nodded; he’d registered the date and been hyperaware of Morgan’s emotions. “But a few weeks later everyone was walking around in masks while we were trying to figure out how to cope without him.”  
  
Reid lifted his hand but Morgan moved away from the contact, gaze lingering on Reid’s face.  
  
“Derek, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to hit me.”  
  
“I still did.”  
  
“Context, Derek.” He smiled kindly. “The best judgements are made with a full understanding of context. You can’t force me to be angry at you for hitting me.”  
  
“I could have broken your nose.”  
  
“But you didn’t. And I shouldn’t have jumped out of you. I’ve just been so excited about this that I didn’t even think there might be a deeper reasoning for your disinterest in the holiday. I’m sorry.”  
  
Morgan looked like he was going to tell him not to apologise, but Reid simply leant over to kiss the corner of his mouth and then took the cloth back to the kitchen. Clooney padded through into the living room and sought Morgan for affection, licking at the hand that scratched between his ears.  
  
He heard footfalls from the hall and got up to investigate why Reid hadn’t rejoined him, only to find the man taking down the Halloween banner on the wall.  
  
“What are you doing?” he asked.  
  
“I didn’t consult you on this, it’s your house and I just went ahead-”  
  
“Spencer, this is our house,” Morgan corrected. “Don’t take the decorations down, baby, we haven’t even had any trick-or-treaters yet.”  
  
Reid turned, frowning a little.  
  
“I just-” he shrugged helplessly.  
  
“I carved a pumpkin yesterday,” Morgan smiled. “I know you love Halloween, and I want to celebrate it with you. I want these memories.”  
  
Reid smiled, and then turned back to pin the banner back up.  
  
“I love you, Derek.”  
  
“I know you do. I love you too.”  
  
In one long stride he was in Morgan’s arms, wrapping his own around a broad chest and nuzzling into his neck. Clooney whined and tried to push in the middle of the embrace, but they ignored the canine and Morgan tilted his head up the fraction it took to angle himself to kiss the man’s mouth.  
  
“Happy Halloween, baby,” Morgan murmured against him.  
  
“First of many,” Reid said, burying his face at the crook of the man’s neck.  
  


_“Nothing is more real than the masks we make to show each other who we are.” - Christopher Barzak_


End file.
